


Home is Wherever I'm With You

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Background Twelfth Doctor/River Song, Dancing, F/F, Melancholy, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:41:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24904756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: The Doctor just couldn't get the song out of her head.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/River Song
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32
Collections: Just Married Exchange 2020





	Home is Wherever I'm With You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [revanchxst (BadWolfGirl01)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadWolfGirl01/gifts).



> Title comes from _Home_ by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes.

There were places the Doctor did not go. 

Some of them were avoided for practical reasons - the people of J'feingal were absolutely lovely, but they ate bipedal apes that looked remarkably like humans (and Time Lords), and the planet of the Seven Moons might have had gorgeous views, but their plant life was descended from Earth poison ivy and stinging nettles, and not something that the Doctor wanted to get entangled in. 

And then there were the places she just avoided. 

If only she could get the sound of the Singing Towers out of her head. 

It wasn't as if it was a melody that she could drown out with some other song, the way she did when she had an especially pervasive tune rattling around in her head. If she hadn't known better, she might have thought that the TARDIS was playing some kind of trick on her, piping the eerie whistling through the back of her thoughts. 

The Fam were busy. It happened like that sometimes - Ryan and Graham were dealing with some kind of pest control situation in their house, and had insisted up, down, and sideways that they did _not_ want the Doctor's help with it (possibly remembering the spiders), and Yaz was being pulled to a family reunion. 

And okay, maybe the Doctor needed a little time to herself. Not that she didn't love her humans, because she did! They were her favorite species to travel around the galaxy with, hands down, but... well.

The quiet was nice. In theory. She'd never been good with quiet, but she was trying to get better. 

It would have been quiet, if she could have gotten that eerie sound out of her head. It was like someone blowing along the top of a gigantic bottle, or maybe some kind of banshee humming. She played loud music as she rattled around the TARDIS, tinkering and adjusting things. The sound was worming its way into her thoughts as well - she found herself whistling tunelessly as she adjusted rivets, humming through her teeth as she welded. 

She was walking down a corridor when a door flew open, and she paused, looking into it, then frowning. "What are you on about?" She asked the ship, and she stepped in.

Then she stepped out, and she closed the door. She was very resolutely _not_ thinking about the familiar trace of perfume, the clothes tossed over a chair, the familiar set of spare trowels and brushes wrapped up in their canvas case. 

"I'm not in the mood," she told the TARDIS, because there was a time and a place for dwelling, and that was "later." 

(Later always caught up with her, but she'd always been good at running - maybe it would miss her this time). 

The humming in her head seemed to get louder, and the lights flickered, as if to scold her.

"You're everywhere at once," the Doctor said, scowling. "Can't you just inhabit the bits of you that were around with her?" 

The TARDIS flickered its lights again, and the humming in the Doctor's head got a little louder.

The Doctor rolled her eyes, and she poked a panel at random. "You're being annoying," she told her ship, her oldest friend. 

The TARDIS shook, just a little bit, probably to get her point across.

"I'm going back to Sheffield," said the Doctor. "Go at the right time, the Fam should be good for some fun!" She knew this was derailing her plans, but maybe the chatter of humans would force out the unending _hum_. 

"Karaoke," the Doctor said. "We'll go to that one asteroid, that has all the karaoke clubs, we'll sing our hearts out." She was talking to herself, and she _knew_ that was usually a bad sign, but... still. 

First things first, she had to have a stop in the wardrobe. Wouldn't be proper karaoke without the proper outfit, after all! 

* * *

The Doctor stared in the mirror, and she adjusted her tie. It had been gifted to her several regenerations ago, back when she wore trainers and suits, but it had been too... gaudy at the time. Now it seemed just _perfect_ , with its shifting rainbow kaleidoscope. Then there was her suit - a dark red velvet jacket, and plain black pants that she had hemmed to the length she preferred them. Another holdover from back in the day, when she'd been taller and driven a car named "Bessie." The shirt was light blue, crisp and button down. She stuffed all her essentials into the pockets of her jacket (forever thankful for being able to make them bigger on the inside), and made her way to the console room.

"You'll see," she told the TARDIS. "A good night of karaoke will be _exactly_ what me and the Fam need. I bet I'll even get Graham and Ryan to sing together! I'm very persuasive like that!"

The ship didn't say anything, the cheeky bugger.

The Doctor danced around the console, turning dials, pushing buttons, pulling levers. She was singing (not very well), bouncing from foot to foot, even keeping pace with her feet to drown out the hum in her head.

_No wonder the Master got like that towards the end, if the drums were that bad_ , whispered some traitorous part of her mind, and she pointedly ignored it, and started on the next verse from the liturgy of the cat nuns.

She still needed to work on her yowling, but it was easier, with her new body. She could hit higher notes, at least. She held on, as the TARDIS juddered and rattled its way through the Time Vortex, and when it finally stilled, landing on solid ground, she sighed.

"You're getting a little shakier in your landings, love," the Doctor said, patting one of the crystal pillars. "Do we need to go on holiday, get some relaxation in?" 

No response. 

"So," the Doctor said, rubbing her hands together, "first stop, Sheffield. Then karaoke!" She opened the TARDIS door, and stepped out.

The Doctor heard singing. At first, she thought she might have gotten the order of where she was going mixed up, because she'd never heard singing in Sheffield, apart from maudlin drunks late at night. Then the actual music caught up with her, and she stopped.

That same eerie, haunting melody. She looked up, and she saw the familiar towers, dominating the horizon. The sky was orange, and her hearts were in her throat. She turned on her heel, and she marched back into the TARDIS.

"That's not funny," she said sharply. 

No answer. 

The Doctor tried again, and her hand was a lot firmer on the controls this time, as she set the schematics for the spot right outside Yaz's flat. She would knock on Yaz's door, say hi to Yaz's family, grab her friend by the hand... 

The TARDIS groaned in protest, but dematerialized, then rematerialized on solid ground.

" _Thank you_ ," the Doctor said, and she patted the TARDIS on the console, then made her way to the door. She opened it cautiously, and then she sighed. Okay. No towers. It looked to be... some kind of venue, actually. A catering hall? 

There was music playing in the background, and she could hear people chattering, the general swishing and clicking sounds that one associates with a bunch of people wearing nice clothing gathered in a small space. There was a notable lack of people singing raucously, or the familiar garish colors that were at all the best karaoke joints.

Still. 

There was a general convivial attitude about the place, and the Doctor always enjoyed a good party. She could insinuate herself into just about any crowd - maybe she'd get a chance to impress everyone with her dance moves. Hadn't had a chance to dance in this body yet, come to think of it. She grinned, her hands in her pockets, and she sidled out of the little maintenance corridor, out amongst the crowd.

It wasn't much of a crowd, truth be told. Plenty of people of various species, milling about in their nice clothes and chatting. There was a band playing something nearby, and what looked like a canopy set up by a big window.

So probably a wedding. Maybe a baby naming or a christening, but she generally associated those with more decorations. This was downright _sedate_ , although there also wasn't a wedding cake. 

Maybe it would come out later. She had to stick around for that - she'd always been a sucker for a good cake. And she liked weddings, for all that they made her a little sad. There was something nice about people all gathering together, to celebrate someone's happiness. To celebrate togetherness. 

Although everything was starting to look a little bit familiar. She'd seen so much, over the course of her life, that sometimes _everything_ had a faint tnge of the familiarity to it, but this was beginning to ping her senses in a way that was making her uneasy. 

The music started up, and everyone was shuffling around, finding seats. The Doctor took one in the back, where she had a good view of the canopy, and she idly drummed her fingers on her knees. This would probably have been more fun with someone else - some of the fun of weddings was being able to sit next to someone and comment on all the interesting costumes, or the equally interesting people. 

In fact, she was beginning to think she recognized a few of the people. She hadn't ever been good with names, and this current regeneration wasn't always good with faces, but she was beginning to recognize one, here and there. 

The sinking in her stomach was getting stronger. She glanced out the window, to take in the view she'd been neglecting (too many interesting people to look at, and that same nibbling familiarity), and saw... a tower. 

A great, natural tower, and she could see the caves, and she'd been so busy tuning out the singing in her head that she was only now realizing that she could still hear it, but via her ears now. She had never left Darillium. 

The doors at the back opened, and the whole room turned to look. 

And there was River Song, wearing a golden dress, her hair an equally golden halo around her face, grinning like she had a secret and making her way down the aisle in her impossibly tall heels.

_Oh no_. 

The Doctor couldn't run. Not now, when everyone was looking like this. And as horrible an idea as it was to be here, her heart ached to see her wife again. Her wife, looking resplendent and entirely too pleased with herself, but that was how River always looked, when things were going good.

The Doctor kept her hands in her lap, and she held on to them tightly. She hadn't seen River with these eyes yet, and she could brush the tears away with one hand, as she watched her former self, all eyebrows and scowls, make his way up as well.

"I always cry at weddings as well," said the cat nun who was sitting next to the Doctor. She handed the Doctor a handkerchief, and the Doctor mumbled some vague _thanks_ , and wiped her face.

She remembered this, faintly. She'd had enough weddings (and been to more) that they all seemed to blend together. She didn't remember why River had insisted on it - maybe there was some kind of deal with the catering hall, or maybe she just wanted to have a party of some kind? But there had been a last minute "throw it all together" during those twenty four years, and they had danced and drank and laughed the night away. There had been some minor... something or other, the Doctor couldn't remember it now, but she'd (well, he at that point, but the pronouns got confusing even in her own head) had to go dashing off to deal with it, and when she'd come back there had been cake and little sausages in rolls. 

A good night, really.

Her main memory of Darillium was a simple one - the two of them, sitting on the balcony of a hotel. The light overhead had been as thick as honey, and it had gilded River's face like a Byzantine painting, bringing out the golds and reds in her hair. She had smiled, and the wrinkles around her eyes had gathered up, her nose scrunching and her whole face transformed. 

The memory was so sweet it _ached_ , and the Doctor bit her lip and dabbed at her face, as more tears dripped down, collecting on the collar of her coat. That would be a pain to clean up.

"To have, and to hold, as the saints of all the stars bare witness," intoned the person under the canopy who was performing the ceremony. They looked like a great, red bird. 

The Doctor sniffed, and she sat back in her seat. She'd get up and leave any second now. Probably when the ceremony was over, since it would be rude to just up and walk out in the middle of the ceremony, and she didn't want to be _rude_ , did she?

* * * 

The Doctor stayed for the whole ceremony, and she didn't cry too loudly. Her nose and eyes ran, which was... well, more than a little embarrassing, but the nun besides her had enough spare handkerchiefs to supply a whole army of schoolchildren with colds. 

When it was all over (River's hand tied to the Doctor's old self's hand, the wine drunk, the glass broken), everyone got up and milled about, and the band started up.

The Doctor hadn't noticed the band.

_I should go_ , the Doctor thought, as she took a sip of sparkling huldaf juice, the sweetness wriggling across her tongue and making her back teeth ache. _It's a bad idea. Just hurting myself, and might cause some kind of paradox._

There were speeches. She sat through them, sitting beside a very pleasant blue man who kept trying to sell her a timeshare on Venus. Then there was dancing - she remembered the dancing. She'd always loved dancing. 

She watched River, in her gold dress, in the arms of her former self. He, at least, was a pretty good dancer. A bit stiff - she couldn't imagine being that stiff now, as she leaned back into her seat, her legs out in front of her. She tapped her knee in time to the music, and then more couples were going on the floor, and the line by the buffet was thinning out. 

Now would be a good time to make her exit. She wasn't sure why she was so _reluctant_ to leave, when she shouldn't have been here. Then again, the Doctor was always finding herself in places she shouldn't have been. So why did this catering hall feel more perilous than being surrounded by a contingent of angry Slitheen, or facing down a whole ship of Daleks.

"You," said a familiar voice, and the Doctor jumped, and tried not to look guilty. 

"Me," said the Doctor, and she turned around... to look into the face of her wife. 

River was smiling, and she was only wobbling a little bit. She was taller than the Doctor in this body, and _that_ was novel. "I know your face," River said.

"I've got a pretty recognizable face, yeah," the Doctor agreed. 

"Are you a friend of my husband's, then?" River crossed her arms across her chest, and the gold of her dress caught the sparkling lights dangling from the various pillars. 

"I... know him, yes," said the Doctor. _He was me_ , she didn't say, because that was a headache in and of itself. Although if anyone would understand that, it would be River, wouldn't it? 

Maybe that was what the Doctor missed about River. Other than her wife's vivacious personality, dry sense of humor, penchant towards creative violence, beautiful face, wonderful laugh, novel approach to problem solving... River was one of the only people the Doctor knew who _understood_ what it was like, to move through time and out of it, treating it like the malleable thing it was. 

River squinted at her, leaning in a little closer, and the Doctor could smell the champagne on her breath. "Are you sure you know my husband?" She was frowning, a line forming between her eyebrows. The Doctor stuffed her hands into her pockets, to keep herself from running her thumb along it. 

"I do," said the Doctor. "He might not have mentioned me. We, uh, we don't see each other much."

"But he invited you to his wedding," River said, and her tone was dry. "Well," she added reflectively, "one of his weddings." She broke into a big, tooth grin, and she held a hand out to the Doctor. "Dance with me," she instructed, wiggling her fingers.

The Doctor looked from River's hand to River's face, and she gawped. She could feel her mouth falling open. "What?"

"Dance with me," River repeated. "Since you know my husband, you're a friend of mine, by proxy."

"I... don't think it works that way," the Doctor said. She shouldn't have even been considering this. She should have been walking away, back to the TARDIS, back to other planets to make new friends and new things and _not_ just emotionally jab herself with pins.

She took River's hand. 

River pulled her to the dance floor - not to the very center, which was more River's style, but more to the edge. Not a lot of people were paying attention - it looked like the Doctor (the earlier version of the Doctor, with his eyebrows and his crossness) was doing some sort of demonstration. She could hear the familiar wheedling of an electric guitar, and she could almost remember the feelings of the strings under her fingers. 

"You're a million miles away," River murmured, and now they were belly to belly. It was softer, in this body - the Doctor could was always faintly surprised at how much softer she was. Admittedly, she had been referred to as a "Scottish stick insect" the last go 'round, so just about anything would be softer, but... still.

"Sorry," said the Doctor. "It really is a lovely party. And I've had a lovely time." They were swaying, slowly. The music was something modern and slow, and the electric guitar seemed to weave in and out of it like a boat bobbing on the waves. 

"Of course you did," said River, and she smiled at the Doctor again, with her red, red lips. "You've always loved a party."

The Doctor's face must have given away her surprise, because River grinned at her, clearly pleased. 

"You didn't think I knew it was you, sweetie?" River let go of the Doctor's waist, to tuck a piece of blond hair behind her ear. 

"Don't know what you're talking about," the Doctor said stiffly. "I'm just a friend of your husband's." 

"I bought you that tie," said River, tugging on it gently. "And you wore that jacket, when we gatecrashed the Andy Warhol's big do." 

"Oh," said the Doctor, and she blinked. "Well. Um."

"I've also met you with this face before," River added. "I must say, I like it. Still getting it broken in?"

The Doctor sighed, and she leaned into River, her head on River's shoulder, her hand still clasped in River's hand. "Something like that," she murmured. The tension was leaving her shoulders, and the gentle sway of the music was lulling her into something like comfort.

It was never a good idea to let herself be lulled by anything. She had to remember that, although it was hard to do so when she could smell the familiar scent of River's skin, and feel her wife's pulse beating against her own where their wrists met. 

"You always have that look about you in the early days," River agreed. "So what brought you here?" 

"The TARDIS," the Doctor said promptly, and River snorted, a puff of hot air across the thin hair of her temple. "Seriously," the Doctor said, and she leaned back, to look River in the eye. "The TARDIS kept sending me here. I think she misses... the wedding." 

It was a blatant lie, and it wasn't a very good one, but River just raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Always loves a wedding," River agreed. "So do I," she added, and her expression went a little wistful.

The Doctor grinned a bit in spite of herself. "Might be why you've had so many," she pointed out.

"Well," River said, and she shrugged, "why not?" She cupped the Doctor's cheek, and her touch was surprisingly gentle. "Cake, dancing, champagne..." She moved her hand down, to rest it on the Doctor's shoulder. "What's not to love?" 

The slow song ended, but the two of them stayed like that, pressed together in the little corner of the dance floor. Things were getting more raucous by the other Doctor, and River grinned. "You always like to be the center of attention, don't you?" 

"Oi," the Doctor said, and she made a face. "That's not me!" She paused. "I mean... it is me, but it's not... me-me." She frowned. "Reduplication is complicated in a situation like this, isn't it?"

River threw her head back, and she laughed. It was an ugly, cackling laugh, and it made the Doctor's own giggles come up. The Doctor let herself be pulled away, until the two of them were squirreled away in another maintenance corridor, River's heels clacking on the lino. 

"Oh my darling," River said, and their fingers were laced together, "it's good to see you." 

The Doctor paused, and saw that they were in front of the TARDIS. How had that happened? Maybe the old girl really did miss River.

"Are you talking to me, or to her?" The Doctor hitched a thumb over her shoulder at the TARDIS. 

"It can't be both?" River fluttered her eyelashes, and she bent down to kiss the Doctor. "Come on," she added, her hand going to the doorknob.

"You're running away from your own wedding?" The Doctor frowned. 

"It's hardly running away if I'm doing it with the person I'm getting married to," River said, "and besides. We have a time machine. We'll be back in time for cake." Her face went a little sad, and something in the Doctor's chest seized up tight. "I want to see what you've done with the place."

The Doctor knew that she needed to send River off, and to leave. She was probably messing with the flow of time in ways that would tear great holes in reality or the time stream, or maybe even find some way to destroy the universe.

She took her wife's beckoning hand, and she stepped into the TARDIS. The humming of the towers had gone quiet in the back of her mind, and the TARDIS was practically _purring_ under her feet. 

"You always did love a party," the Doctor murmured, and then she was making her way to the TARDIS console, where River was already dashing about, her high heels dangling from a bar, her bare feet whispering on the metal floor. 

"I want to go to another wedding," River told the Doctor, and then her face broke into a wide grin. "Unless you'd like to get married again?" 

"I might do," the Doctor said, "but first... d'you wanna go do karaoke?" 

River's laughter blended in with the sounds of the TARDIS, and the singing of the towers outside, and the needling of the electric guitar, and the chatter of the guests. 

It was like coming home, wherever home was, for however short a time it was.


End file.
